From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
With both the letter from Doctor Hart and file in hand, the Fixer strolls purposefully through the Tower, the rooms and halls in this wing quieter than most - no doubt in part to the Eye’s reputation. Falke sports his glasses and a full beard today, looking quite scholarly and professional, if he does say so. It doesn’t matter though, if the news he brings is grim and if he has to insist on hamstringing them for everyone’s safety.
Well, that’s why he’s here and not Tobi. Taking a deep breath, Falke raps on Cian’s door and then pushes it open, a carefully neutral ‘doctor’ face on. Used to delivering bad news, it’s only the urgency with which he requested the meeting that betrays its true nature. “Hello, Cian,” he offers, heading to a seat in front of the desk.
“I’m afraid we’ve got a couple of problems,” he begins, watching the Eye carefully. Not because he’s afraid of the man - no, not that all. Because he’s looking to see if the man is any different from the last time he’d seen him.
08-28-2020, 01:19 AM (This post was last modified: 08-28-2020, 01:20 AM by Cian.)
CIAN
the eye
Cian hardly glances up. Despite the urgency with which Falke made this appointment, the Eye seems utterly engrossed with the newspaper before him. Absently he scratches just below his nose, puffing out a breath of air as if having just found something he read amusing.
"Have a seat, doctor." His voice is dusty and dry, and though he hasn't looked up once, there's no mistaking the fact hat nothing slips by his attention. "Take a load of that hip of yours." It's almost a kind tone of tone.
Almost.
Folding the paper deliberately, Cian eyes the man before him with a piercing denim gaze before speaking. "You're here to tell me that Finn has lost himself in ... all of this." The Eye vaguely gestures with a hand. "And that I ought to pull him back. Then I ask how you know, and you tell me what Finn told Doctor Hart, and then you start asking the real questions." This is all said in one unhurried breath.
Cian has never been known for his kindness, so almost kind sits just fine with the Fixer. He does, in fact, settle into the chair, pulling it out from its place just a little bit (contamination, you know, though if any of it was brought back and is harmful, it’s probably in every inch of this office already).
He takes it as trying to keep this meeting short and efficient, no need to linger over what they both know, and Falke can appreciate trying to get to the root of the matter. “About half of it,” he replies good-naturedly, crossing an ankle over a knee. “I must emphasize the strong insistence that he should be pulled back due to a confession of fixation and fascination with Ludo’s chosen that has led to a delay and/or shirking of his duties - in addition to the non-verbal state he was in. Concern about contamination from the Climb for you, and a request for samples. I’d also like to monitor anyone you’ve had close contact with.” Probably just Dorian on that count.
He pauses for a moment, then nods sharply. “And I’d like to send October Hart into the field. Start in Torchline and go from there if it yields positive results.”
He, of course, would stay in the Tower to keep an eye on people in regards to the contamination and to learn more from Finn and Dorian about their targets. Fixing the Eye with an amicable expression, he readies his secondary points in case he hits resistance that has a chance of being swayed.
Cian raises a brow at that, not trying at all to hide the brief expression of surprise that washes over him. Fixation, is it? "He's been sent out of Torchline. As that's where this fellow is, I don't see it being a problem. But if you're telling me that Finn is going to fixate even when he isn't around this man, when he's been sent elsewhere, then we have a problem." Leaning forward, the Eye raises a brow casually. He would put down a wounded horse if it needed it. Would shoot a dog with rabies no matter how he loved them. If Finn couldn't do his job, then it was back on the streets (and to the Silk Houses in all likelihood).
"By all means, run your tests." Cian's voice is dry like smoke made audible. "Our dear Doctor Hart has already cleared me, but if you would like more, here I am." Apparently the subject of October is not over, as Falke surprises the Eye again by suggesting that she be sent into the field.
None of those in Cian's employ are idiots, they can all be well sure of that. So it isn't with skepticism or annoyance that he meets this request, but soft curiosity. "And why is that? Everyone in Torchline has been accounted for. What use could she possibly have there?"
Falke meets the raised brow with a contemplative look. After a moment of consideration, he says evenly, “It would do everyone a disservice to say I know definitively how Finn will react.” To say yes, he would fixate, could do harm to Finn and the Order in its loss of a valuable member. To say no, he wouldn’t, might also put the Order in jeopardy if he’s wrong. Falke operates in facts and this is not fact - not yet. “Give me three days and I can tell you.”
Doctor Hart, however, is where Falke really digs in, putting it together for Cian in pieces and parts, leading him down a road he may not have considered before, particularly from one of the ‘softer’ sides of the Order. “Accounted for, yes. But have you met any resistance? Are they truly on our side? If they are as complex as I’ve heard, we’ll need more insights on how they think.” A brief pause while he lets that fact settle. “We’ve also only shown them that we’re an organization of men. A woman, particularly one such as Doctor Hart,” - and Cian well knows what he’s talking about, “- might be able to make inroads where we cannot. Even Dorian, for all his smooth talking, is more persuasive than empathetic.”
That is to say that Cian has tools as yet unused in his toolbox. He could hold on to them for a power move later, or he could show from the get go why he’s a better builder.
"Three days it is." Cian says with a nod, seeming agreeably enough.
But then the tables are turning, and Cian can't help but be mentally aroused by this change of pace. "Resistance? Of what sort? From what I've heard Dorian and Finn were able to get the two demi-gods in Torchline on board, the one wandering the Greatwood was eager. And Vi's chosen one is obviously on board." The Eye shrugs his shoulders, sensing that perhaps there is more going on here than what is being said. But if Falke is playing his cards close to his chest, so be it. Cian likes a good aggressive poker-player.
"If it's their minds we are concerned with, I should think you might be the better candidate." Hart, for all of her knowledge, had always tended towards physical healing, whereas their Fixer, capable of almost everything, had an aptitude for the mind. "Besides, I would hate to dangle Doctor Hart as a way of somehow convincing them of how...what? Well-rounded we are?" He shrugs. Cian has always found the best people for the job, regardless of race, sex, gender, or differing abilities. He sees no reason to tote around his equality like a bargaining chip. Not so early in the game, anyway.
“Thank you.” Of course three days won’t matter if Finn doesn’t come home, but what are timelines Gracious, refraining from lingering on the topic now that it’s been resolved, the Fixer moves on. Holding a hand up to gently protest, he says, “No, of course not, I haven’t heard of any specific resistance. But -”
Leaning forward a bit and resettling his feet on the ground, Falke is ready. “I would urge extra caution while the link between the Order and these demigods is fragile. A group of strange men has come out of nowhere to ask them to help end the Voice. Even if they're already inclined, that’s no small thing. Second, Finn wouldn’t form this kind of fixation would some encouragement. He says Ludo’s chosen is broken, and if that’s true, then he’s unpredictable and we need to know more. Third - Doctor Hart knows quite a bit about the Outlanders and I trust her observational skills implicitly. And if Finn ends up being a liability, I would rather be here to facilitate whatever happens than leave it to someone else.” He is the Spyglass’s doctor, after all. It wouldn’t be right to leave it to someone else.
Big ifs, big plays, but Falke is good at painting pictures of the world and the multiple possibilities - or consequences, if one chooses to look at it that way.
Cian falls silent as Falke speaks up. The Fixer is not one for lengthy tirades without good reason, and the Eye has learned how invaluable the doctor's opinions are, over and above his medical expertise.
What Cian hears is a well-thought string of words. Something the Fixer has been meticulously weaving together before this moment. He appreciates Falke's intentionality. His candidness, even if it comes prepared. "Well said. Leave it with me to consider." Cian says with a nod because fuck you timelines. "What do you make of the demigods, from what you've seen and heard? Would you advise bringing them here if we could, to keep them under watch? Or is it better to let them wander about engaging them only when needed?"
That Cian will even consider it is a win, causing Falke to also nod, albeit in thanks. Every now and then he forgets that the Eye can usually be reasoned with if given enough good ones to sway an argument. And when it isn’t of the utmost importance.
Quit sure the meeting is done, the Fixer is surprised to hear a request for advice and he takes a momet to mull over what both Dorian and Finn have told him. With as much deliberation as he did previously, he lays out his thoughts without frills or finery. “Without meeting them, I can only go off other’s impressions that they are indeed quite complex, both in their attachments and their making. If the baker is indeed chosen by Vi, she may be a wild card.”
One of his two chosen Gods, Falke is well aware of what Vi commands - life. “And the two Outlander demigods, wedded to each other, one potentially unstable… No, I can’t advise bringing them here yet. Not unless it’s dire.” Shaking his head, he adds a caveat: “But I think it’s something we should work towards.”
